


Big Bad John

by featheredschist



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-08
Updated: 2012-11-08
Packaged: 2017-11-18 06:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/featheredschist/pseuds/featheredschist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce and Tony fight, Bruce does a runner. This is what happens while he's away. Can they eventually fix it? AU, not related to my Vital Comm 'verse, song fic; angst, hurt/comfort, romance if you squint alt ending available with the following warnings: Angst, depressing, major character death ONE SHOT</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers, or the song "Big Bad John". Please do not sue for an overactive imagination. PS, I cannot write a short story for the life of me. This thing clocked in at 4500 words before I stuffed the lyrics in DX
> 
> Song by Jimmy Dean and Roy Acuff, recorded in 1961 by Dean. Lyrics interspersed.
> 
> www. youtube watch?v=KnnHprUGKF0 (remove the spaces to get a video)

He'd left New York after a particularly bad argument had resulted in a little Hulk inspired redecorating of the bedroom, and a broken collarbone. Bruce had left a letter explaining his position, expressing his sincere apologies and the patent to a new piece of tech that Tony could use to repair the Tower, again.

Natasha and Clint had taken him as far as Suarez, Mexico, and he'd continued to make his way south. He ended up in Minas Gerais, Brazil, offering his medical skills to a small scale mining operation in return for a place to stay and food. The mine foreman took him at his offer, since the previous man with medical experience had not reported to the muster point in town. They'd at least brought in the medical supplies, so Bruce wasn't forced to hike out to get more than he'd brought with him. And the foreman wouldn't have to pay the man a wage from whatever slim earnings the mine already cleared.

_Ev'ry mornin' at the mine you could see him arrive_  
He stood six foot six and weighed two forty five  
Kinda broad at the shoulder and narrow at the hip  
And everybody knew ya didn't give no lip to Big John 

Every morning, he rose before dawn and did some yoga to center himself before he headed to the mine entrance to keep an eye on the workers as they changed shifts. He ignored the ribald comments tossed around like water balloons, as they ignored him. But acknowledged the few softly given hellos from the few guys he'd seen in a medical capacity since arriving. Thirty guys disappeared into the depths of the mine for the day shift. Bruce singled out 2 from the night crew, and bade them to follow him to the small shack he used as a clinic. Slipping keys from his pocket, he unlocked the padlocked door and ushered the two miners inside.

"Sit," he instructs the one, speaking Portuguese, gesturing the other into the exam room. This miner had two smashed fingers he needed to clean and tape up. Bruce quietly got to work. He quickly washed the hand in an antiseptic solution, murmuring apologies in the local tongue for the stinging burn. He rubbed an antibiotic cream on the scraped knuckles and wrapped each finger in gauze before taping the whole together.

He told the miner, "Keep it dry and as clean as possible for at least two days, then see me again." The miner nodded and left, telling his compatriot that Bruce was ready to see him.

This miner was a little more complicated, nursing a case of the local version of black lung, only caused by inhaling silica particles from the crystal mining. There's not much he can do but treat the symptoms empirically and he knows the man won't quit the job. When he's done examining the man, he quietly tells him, "Go to my house, and take one of the nets of fruit hanging from the porch roof on the right side of the front window." The man nods jerkily, and leaves, trying not to stumble.

_Nobody seemed to know where John called home_  
He just drifted into town and stayed all alone  
He didn't say much, kinda quiet and shy  
And if you spoke at all, you just said "Hi" to Big John 

_Somebody said he came from New Orleans_  
Where he got in a fight over a Cajun Queen  
And a crashin' blow from a huge right hand  
Sent a Loosiana fellow to the Promised Land-Big John 

Bruce sighed, and turned to clean up. No one had asked him questions about his past, no one got close to him in that place. They accepted that he was only "Doutor"* for them, never a miner. He heard rumors of course, wild stories from some of the expatriated Americans he'd noticed. How he must have done something and he was on the run. Perhaps run drugs? Committed murder? He'd quietly snorted in disbelief at the first, and walked away from the second, it having hit too close to home.

_Then came the day at the bottom of the mine_  
When a timber cracked and men started cryin'  
Miners were prayin' and hearts beat fast  
And everybody thought that they'd breathed their last-'cept John 

Later that afternoon, after he'd returned home to a quick lunch of barely warm soup and nearly moldy bread, the squelching treble of the mine's pitiful alarm siren wailed, startling roosting tropical birds for 5 miles in all directions.

"Damn!", he swore, and took off at a dead run for the mine.

Dust billowed from the entrance as Bruce arrived, with a few walking wounded stumbling dazedly around. He quickly assessed the situation and commandeered several miners to follow him to the aid hut. Not even truly thinking about it, he doesn't reach for the keys this time, but snaps the hasp and padlock off barehanded. He flat hands the door out of his way, and storms inside, going for his rather large, black duffel that masquerades as a portable medical kit.

He growled, "Get the stretchers from the back, and come with me." The six miners bustle out the back and brought around a collection of branches and straps. The group of 7 head over to the mine entrance carved out of the ground that was still billowing dust. It no longer gives up miners. Bruce knows what that means. But instead of rushing down the mine's main shaft, he begins triaging the other wounded scattered about the entrance. He can direct the six with him into doing rudimentary work, cleaning cuts, and applying pressure bandages. The mine supervisor has called for assistance, and while expensive, it means the difference between lives and deaths. A helicopter will be on it's way, hopefully with trained medical personnel on board.

Thirty minutes into his triage, Bruce has the worst wounded set off to one side for him to work on, mostly broken bones and cracked ribs. The rest can be handled by his ersatz nurses – a mixture of concussions, twisted ankles, bruised ribs and plenty of bruises and scrapes. His hands go practically on automatic, cleaning wounds and setting bones, as he verbally directs the others in their work. Once all the above ground wounded are deal with, Bruce can focus on whether he'll get down in the mine or not. His aides move wounded back to their barracks, and find food before reporting back to him. He released them, not having other pressing needs, and thanked them for their work.

The mine supervisor found him then, and told him the latest on the mine's collapse.

"It is bad, Doutor, truly bad. One of the tunnels has caved in, and another, the men found a pocket of gas. Shift leader Tomas managed to radio that there were 20 men safe for now in one of the small tunnels. I have called for assistance, and a team is on it's way from Diamontina," the older man said, speaking heavily accented English, his hands clutching a small radio hard enough to turn the knuckles white.

"It will turn out for the best, Wilhelm. Have faith," Bruce told the supervisor. He bent to the task of cleaning up the medical detritus to keep the area clear.

"Are you a religious man, Doutor?", Wilhelm asked.

"More spiritual, Wilhelm. I've traveled a lot, learned too much," was Bruce's answer. Wilhelm didn't push.

A few hours after the mine collapse, a helicopter was heard approaching. Bruce cautiously walked out to the landing area. Occasionally, the Brazilian military got involved in recovery efforts. It was enough to keep Bruce wary. He reached the clearing to see Wilhelm nervously welcoming several people off one chopper. Bruce saw another hovering overhead. The second chopper was rather large, which meant equipment. Bruce thought it was a Chinook type, but he wasn't sure. When all the newcomers were clear of the first helicopter, the pilot lifted off, giving the second a chance to land. Wilhelm radioed for the miners to come unload whatever equipment it carried. Wilhelm then beckoned Bruce over and introduced him to the people that turned out to be the mine owner, two members of the mining board from Diamontina, and two journalists, one of them carrying a camera. Bruce answered questions about the health of the miners, and the state of the injured. The reporters recorded everything, making Bruce sigh internally. When this was over, he was in the wind.

Discussion between the owner, Wilhelm, and the mining board members brought more people and equipment from the cities. Radio transmissions with the survivors and ground penetrating radar helped the above ground miners drill a few test holes to get fresh air down to the trapped, and at least one larger bore hole to pass water and food. Bruce spent several minutes trying to assess injuries on those trapped via radio, and had someone write down explicit directions that went down with a cache of medical supplies. Two days passed before the rigs arrived to begin drilling new holes to let the tunnels air out from the pierced gas pocket.

The news of the mine collapse had been broadcast worldwide by nightfall of the first day, and international aid began arriving six hours after Bruce's first interview went live. Families of the trapped miners arrived on the second morning.

Back in New York, several computer algorithms scanning media outlets for particular keywords gather multiple hits on the incident in Brazil. SHIELD's operatives gathered the intel and added the parameter for Hulk sightings. A short memo hit Fury's desk late in the afternoon on the second day. He filed it, but said nothing to any of the agents who would care. On the other hand, JARVIS had already alerted the Avengers, Pepper and Phil. They gathered in the conference room, and watched the videos play.

"This is where Banner ended up when he left here three months ago?", Steve Rogers asked, pointing at a map projection to the left of the looping news feed.

Clint Barton sat forward from his slouch. "Nat and I took him as far as Suarez, when we had that mission to Baja," he informed the group. Phil Coulson confirmed this, checking over mission notes on the StarkPad in front of him. Natasha Romanov was her usual stony self, half glare on her face.

Tony Stark was uncharacteristically silent, rubbing at his left shoulder absently. Phil noticed.

"Anything you'd like to fill us in on Stark?", he asked the genius engineer.

Tony startled, his tired eyes gone wide, "What? No, nothing," he stammered.

"Really?", Clint bared his teeth, as if scenting downed prey, "Not what I heard."

"Enough Clint," Phil quietly said, stopping a potential pissing match between the two hot heads.

Clint turned to look at Natasha, who only raised a slim, red eyebrow at his childishness.

Tony looked at Steve and asked, "Are we just going to sit here, or go help?"

"What would you like us to do, Stark?", Phil asked.

"Get supplies there faster? Anything!", Tony spits, standing and pacing. It's clear he's upset, but the rest of the team can't figure out why.

"If the situation changes," Phil starts to say.

"You mean if the Hulk shows up," Tony snarls, interrupting, and he storms from the room, completely frustrated with the non-action from the rest of the team.

"Pepper, what's wrong with him?", Steve asks the other woman in the room, last known as Tony's girlfriend. Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries, sighed, her hands coming up to rest on the tabletop.

"Understand that Tony, for all his bluster, is a loyal and steadfast man," she said, looking at each of the Avengers, and pinning them with her steely gaze. Steve, Phil and Natasha meet her gaze calmly, giving small nods of understanding. Clint squirms a little under the weight of her stare, and finally breaks his gaze away. "He's worried about Bruce. Three months ago there was an incident. Tony was injured. I don't know what happened after that, and JARVIS deleted any and all associated files. The only other thing I know about it is that Tony had the penthouse redecorated," Pepper finally explains.

JARVIS chooses to put in his two cents, "What is between Mr Stark and Dr Banner is private, fixed into my code. However, I believe Mr Stark will head to Brazil before too long, Hulk sighting or not."

Pepper takes her leave of the team then, going back to Stark Industries work. She sets one of her assistants to putting together a packet of information about the Brazilian mine and the efforts to rescue the trapped miners.

Three more days pass in Brazil, with no clear idea when the miners would be freed. Bruce is close to an irrevocable decision. He's seen the rescue workers getting frustrated, the mine owner and supervisor practically desperate. The mine having a tendency to collapse any new holes they attempt to drill since the ones for aid four days previously.

He goes home one last time, to the ramshackle hut he'd been assigned to, and sits down to a meal of soup, hard tack and fruit. He found a notebook and pen he'd brought from New York, something of a diary that he'd been keeping since he left. He flipped it open to a blank page and started writing. Thirty minutes later, he capped his pen and tore that single sheet from the notebook. Using a bit of spare twine and a piece of old brown paper from his recyclables, he tied the affair together and took it with him back to the operations center.

"Wilhelm," he called the mining supervisor over, "I need to borrow ten minutes on a satellite phone and ask you to hold on to something for me."

"I will get you that time, Doutor. What else do you need?", Wilhelm promised.

"I intend to call some friends," Bruce said with a sigh, "They may try and show up here once they know what I'm about to do. If they do come, give Tony Stark this package." They walk towards a bank of radio equipment.

"How will I know them?", Wilhelm asks, accepting the package.

"Oh, you can't miss them," Bruce laughs. Wilhelm only looks confused, but takes Bruce at his word. He points out the sat phone and Bruce dialed the only number he had memorized while still in New York. He got JARVIS, and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Dr Banner?", the AI was surprised to get a satellite call. He began recording everything about it, and tracking the coordinates for Tony to use later.

"Hello JARVIS. Could you get a message to the rest of the team, please?", Bruce decided this was easier.

"Yes sir," JARVIS immediately agrees.

"Thank you. Give them the news of the mine, confirm that I was here. And tell them," he pauses, "Tell them it was an honor to work with them, especially Tony. I don't expect to come out of this, but I am going to try and rescue the miners, JARVIS. That will probably bring SHIELD here, if not the Avengers." He swipes a hand across his face, suddenly tired. "Tell Tony...tell him thanks for everything, and, iridium, lutetium. Thank you JARVIS, for your help too. Be good to Tony for me?"

"Of course Dr Banner. I hope to see you in New York again soon," the AI says. Bruce makes a non-committal noise and disconnects the call. He knows that the team will likely be on their way within an hour if they aren't already scattered across the globe. Wilhem looks at Bruce in shock. "You? Rescue the miners? Why now? Why wait?", he demands. Bruce grabs Wilhelm by the arm and tugs him away from the rest of the operations team.

"Being out here, you don't know," Bruce starts to explain, "I have a condition. With the right stimulus, it is sort of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. But I didn't rush in to this, for the same reasons the others didn't. No sense getting the rescuers as stuck as the trapped, is there?"

Wilhelm agrees, reluctantly.

"With as much instability as they keep uncovering, it will have to be enough for me to do this. Get a group together to assemble a sled with shoring timbers. Then get the media people distracted somehow." Bruce had to trust in this case, that once he let the Hulk out, what he planned would actually happen, instead of the old rampages.

Wilhelm was skeptical, but did as Bruce asked. A team of ten men put together a drag sled with all the shoring timber the mine had available. Wilhelm himself undertook to distract the media with an offer to interview those who had managed to get out of the mine.

With enough people sufficiently distracted, Bruce took off his shirt, leaving it hanging from a tent pole. He stood in the shadowed entrance to the mine, closed his eyes and let go the lock on the door to where the Hulk was kept.

His shoulders hunched with the first signs of pain from the transformation. His back muscles rippled, like pond water. Skin changed from healthy tan to gamma green in two blinks of an eye. In seconds, his body grew to accommodate the huge bulk of muscle and sinew that was trademark to the Hulk. Once the change was done, Hulk grunted, breathing deep, sorting himself against his known threats. Hulk remembered what Banner wanted, and grabbed the rough hawser attached to the drag sled to move further down the mine's main shaft.

_Through the dust and the smoke of this man-made hell_  
Walked a giant of a man that the miners knew well  
Grabbed a saggin' timber, gave out with a groan  
And like a giant oak tree he just stood there alone-Big John 

Once the Hulk reached part of the collapsed shaft he began digging out the rubble to create enough of an area to set up the timbers. He worked in this fashion for several hours, attempting to reach the trapped miners. He relied on his sense of hearing and smell to guide him in the pitch black. Eventually, he caught the sounds of movement and voices. He set the last of his timbers, and turned to find the miners. The cavern they were in was blocked from the main access shaft by more debris. It takes time to clear it all. He can tell the miners they will be safe, but saves his breath for shifting the rock.

Finally, he makes a breakthrough, creating a hole big enough for Banner and other normal sized humans to move in and out of. Hulk lets Banner come forward again, taking back control of the body and mind. Bruce calls out to the miners in Portuguese, startling them. Cries of "Doutor!" echo in the chamber, and a few lanterns are turned on. He tells them to get out of the mine, turning the drag sled over to those who can't walk. He checks with the shift leader, Tomas, to see if there's anyone unaccounted for and then pushes the man out with the rest. He keeps a lantern for himself, and moves into the bowels of the mine.

_And with all of his strength he gave a mighty shove_  
Then a miner yelled out "There's a light up above!"  
And twenty men scrambled from a would-be grave  
Now there's only one left down there to save-Big John 

The rescued miners walk out of the maw of the shaft into confusion. Emergency response workers converge on the men. Wilhelm was dealing with the arrival of the people Bruce had talked about before he went below.

Bruce moved deeper in the mine, slowly checking as many sub-shafts as he could get into, trying to find any other survivors.

Tony stood outside, shouting at the mine owner about shoddy equipment and a lack of attention and care. It took Steve and Clint to redirect him and keep him from striking the man.

In a quieter moment, Wilhelm approached the Avengers, bearing the parcel Bruce had entrusted to him.

"Is one of you Tony Stark?", he asked. Tony look up from his place, slouched in a camp chair, head in his hands. His brown eyes were hard, and bore into him like a drill bit. Wilhelm proffered the package, "The Doutor, he left this for you." And he left them alone.

Tony took the notebook and untied the twine, dropping the brown paper, letting the loose sheet come free. He read it, and seemingly deflated further before the eyes of the rest of the team.

"Tony?", Steve asked, concerned.

"He doesn't expect to come back. The ground the mine is in is very unstable. There shouldn't have been a mine here to begin with," Tony's voice was very subdued, and full of pain. The others shared looks, and Clint asked, "What can we do?"

"We wait," Steve said.

"For awhile," Tony said, "I'll go in after him, if I have to." He sat back and began to read the diary that chronicled Bruce's life since leaving New York. He refused to give up. Bruce's parting code, two elements, told him everything. He needed to fix this, whatever it was between them.

_With jacks and timbers they started back down_  
Then came that rumble way down in the ground  
And then smoke and gas belched out of that mine  
Everybody knew it was the end of the line for Big John 

Hours later, no one quite knew how many, another rumbling roar erupted from the mine entrance, vibrating the muddy, well trampled ground left clear before it. Many of the mining people had given up and left, taking most of the media crews with them. Only a few international crews still hung on, solely because of the presence of the Avengers. Wilhelm waited with them.

Their attention was drawn to the mine with this new sound, the first in at least 5 hours since their arrival. The midday sun beat down on them, casting the entire entrance in shadows, throwing heat shimmers everywhere, making it hard to see anything at the entrance.

A shadowy figure stumbled to the opening, large and imposing. It nearly appeared a nightmarish creature, all arms and legs until the shadows separated and resolved into individual bodies. Two limped under their own, shared power; four others were carried by the mighty form of the incredible Hulk towering over them.

Avengers and emergency workers swarmed the seven beings, separating the miners from the exhausted Hulk and taking them off to the nearby tent facility set up for medical treatment. The Avengers tried not to hem in the Hulk, not wanting to startle him, but stayed nearby. Tony was the only one brave or stupid enough to get close. Steve flinched when Tony got within arm's reach of the behemoth, clearly wanting to order him to stay back. The team still wasn't sure what was going on between Tony and Bruce.

Said behemoth, relieved of his human burdens, leaned against the man made cavern wall, breathing deeply, clearly exhausted. He saw his teammates and closed his eyes against the surge of pain/shame/self-loathing that overwhelmed him.

"Hey big guy," Tony softly said, getting closer.

"TONY," the Hulk moaned, eyes still closed. He slowly slid down the wall until he was sitting on the ground. Tony reached the Hulk's side, and reached out a hand to touch the overly large shoulder. It twitched under his touch, as though the Hulk was afraid of him.

"It's okay. Come home now," Tony told him.

"SORRY", Hulk rumbled.

"No, I am. So very sorry. It's time to let Bruce come back, okay? I promise we'll do better," Tony told him, stroking through his wiry hair. Hulk nodded, and his form melted and deflated, turning back to Banner's smaller, less bulky form. Tony caught the nearly unconscious form of the doctor he cared so much about.

"All right Bruce, I've got you. Steve? Get the jeep fired up, we're leaving. Clint, go find out where he stayed and clear it out. Natasha? Thank you," Tony gave out orders to the others, and took a shock blanket from Nat to cover Bruce and keep him warm. Steve and Clint both left to carry out their orders. Steve returning first with the black, four wheel drive jeep that had brought them to the mining camp. Natasha and Tony assisted Bruce out to the jeep. As they got him settled, Clint jogged up, a worn duffel slung over his shoulder.

"Not a lot laying around," he told them. The medical bag would stay behind, absorbed into the needs of the mine.

Wilhelm caught Tony before he got in the jeep. "Mr Stark, please, when the Doutor is better, give him our thanks? Without him, all would have been lost. He worked for nothing while with us, such a rare man," Wilhelm rambled a bit, but managed to press a small parcel, hastily wrapped in a scrap of flannel, into Tony's hands. "Give him this later?" And Wilhelm was gone.

The team got back to the quinjet, left on a plateau not five miles away from the mining site. Once onboard, they settled Bruce on a medical bed, Natasha and Tony buzzing around his prone form, attaching an IV and several monitors. The IV would push fluids into his overworked body. Clint took the pilot seat, and prepped them for take off, radioing the near air traffic control tower for clearance. Steve had a brief discussion with Phil via phone, updating him on what they'd done and that Bruce was okay and with them. The quinjet was soon on it's way.

Well into the flight back to New York, Bruce regained consciousness. Tony was there, watching over him.

"Tony..." Bruce mumbled. Tony brought him a bottle of water to sip from.

"Hey. You're fine, just a little overworked from being the Hulk for too long. Though we're not sure how many hours," Tony informed him, carding fingers through Bruce's salt and pepper curls.

"Mm, too many," Bruce agreed, leaning into the strokes. Everything was sore, he could tell. Recovery would be a long process.

"Bruce, you need to know, I...I'm sorry for what made you run three months ago. It was stupid. You know relationships are scary waters for me," Tony was baring his soul a bit.

Bruce looked up at the lonely genius, taking in all the little signs of how hard the past quarter year had been on the man. Tony's eyes were soft, saddened, and pained. If they had been able to meet halfway, so much pain could have been avoided.

Bruce's hand reached up to Tony's face, gently cupping his cheek, thumb stroking along the cheekbone. Tony sighed, a small, quiet sound and leaned into the gentle pressure. He'd missed this contact so very much.

"I'm sorry too, Tony. That lab accident could have happened to either of us. My reaction was disproportionate to the situation. Let's try again, okay?", Bruce was hopeful and scared.

Tony smiled, and bent down to press a gentle kiss to the lips of his favorite scientist with green rage monster issues.

"Before I forget," Tony said, when they reluctantly separate for such a simple thing as breathing, "Your friend, Wilhelm, forced this package on me before we left. It's been all I can do to keep the kids out of it."

Bruce tried not to laugh, all the work he'd done as the Hulk had been upper body, leaving all the muscles and ligaments sore and tender.

"Hey!", cried Clint, still in the pilot seat, "I'm not the one trying to con JARVIS into running scans on the thing!"

Tony had the grace to blush at that admission, but admitted, "I had to make sure we weren't bringing something dangerous back to New York!" The rest of the team laughed at this transparent excuse.

Bruce just looked at his lover, eyes shining in renewed happiness at being around all the people he cared about.

Tony found the parcel, and plopped it on Bruce's lap, "Here. I did not actually open it, nor did JARVIS succumb to even threats of reprogramming to even scan it for me."

Bruce unwrapped the flannel scrap and revealed a fist sized, dark purple amethyst geode. Both of them goggled at the precious stone. "JARVIS, scan it now please?", Bruce whispered. He had a suspicion about the piece sitting so innocently in his hand.

"Of course Dr Banner," came the voice of the AI that assisted them all from within Stark Tower, and on all Avengers' related missions. A bright blue beam shot down from the ceiling and enveloped the geode.

"It appears to be an A grade amethyst, Doctor. And several points are gem quality," was the report.

"Huh, nice souvenir," Tony quipped, climbing in beside Bruce, and wrapping himself around the smaller man. Bruce smiled and tucked his head under Tony's chin, sighing in contentment.


	2. Chapter 2 ALT ENDING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The alternate ending for this story. Clear warning, it is a bit sad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picks up from the paragraph beginning: "Hours later, no one quite knew how many..."

_Now they never reopened that worthless pit_  
They just placed a marble stand in front of it  
These few words are written on that stand  
At the bottom of this mine lies a hell of man, Big John 

The Avengers snapped to attention, clustering as close to the entrance as possible, the mine supervisor behind them. Twenty minutes later, the rumbling stopped, but the dust refused to settle.

Wilhelm took in all of this information, and collapsed in grief, tears unashamedly streaking his face.

"It is done. The Doutor, he was unsuccessful," he gasped out.

"What?", Clint, Steve, and Natasha turned on the man.

Tony stiffened in disbelief, "No. He's the Hulk. Nothing can stop him!" He whirled, and ran for their jeep, planning on donning his Iron Man armor and blasting away at the ground until he found the Hulk or Banner.

He didn't get far, when an iron grip on his shoulder stopped him cold. He turned his head to find Steve holding him in place.  
"I doubt even the Hulk could withstand a mountain collapsing in on him, Tony," he softly said, full of sorrow.

"We don't know that! We have to try!", Tony screamed at him, trying to wrench free and getting desperate. Steve just shook his head, and Natasha sneaked up on Tony, quickly incapacitating him with an injection of a sedative that knocked him out cold.

The team left Brazil, and a monument to where Banner had fallen. The mine was never worked again, though ghosts were said to haunt the area long after. One ghost was always spotted in red and gold; another, in purple and green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN - "Doutor" in Portuguese is "doctor". You'll note that the lyric ends with "Hell of a man", this was the original. Jimmy Dean had to re-record it, removing that word, because of the censors at the time. It is very rare to find a version with the full, original score.
> 
> Comments and crits are always welcome! This is my first song fic.

**Author's Note:**

> * - "Doutor" is Portuguese for "doctor"
> 
> AN - The last lyric is on the alternate ending, because the original ending of the song is too sad for this that I wrote.


End file.
